


daisies and dallying and days (with you)

by krizzlesandblues



Series: of gods and celestial beings [3]
Category: 2NE1, Big Bang (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/M, Fluff, Romantic Fluff, gods and celestial beings au, pls blame the daisies okay, yup daragon fic yay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:07:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21778795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krizzlesandblues/pseuds/krizzlesandblues
Summary: - or, jiyong sees sandara in daisies blooming in the spring and winter
Relationships: Kwon Jiyong | G-Dragon/Park Sandara | Dara
Series: of gods and celestial beings [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1175018
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	daisies and dallying and days (with you)

**Author's Note:**

> [context: Jiyong is currently the Master of the Underworld, who, reportedly, saved a dying goddess of the spring, Sandara. This, however, came with a price Sandara had to pay—which Jiyong deeply regrets.
> 
> In this story, it’s been a few years after Jiyong had casted his curse upon Sandara, and it seems that she’s warming up to him in contrast to her cold treatment at first. 
> 
> The stories, by the way, happen almost a century or so before kangkimsonglee become gods.]

**_celestrium | spring_ **

  


“Thanks for coming by again, Jiyong-hyung,” Daesung said gratefully as he and Taeyang escorted Jiyong outside the Great Hall. “I really wouldn’t have invited you here, but I needed some help…”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Jiyong reassured him. “It’s not as if I’m busy within the Underworld, anyway.”

“Any plans while you’re here, Jiyong?” Taeyang asked casually. “Enjoy the sunshine here even for a while, man. It won’t burn your pale, cold skin.”

Jiyong scowled at him. “I know that. I didn’t say anything about staying here for long, though.”

A sly smirk crept up on Taeyang’s lips. “Well, I’m not sure if you’ll stick to that though.” His eyes then gazed to something far away, as if waiting for someone to arrive.

“Hyung?” Daesung glanced at Taeyang in confusion. “What is it?”

A wide grin illuminated Taeyang’s face as he called, “Ey, Sandara!”

Jiyong’s heart stopped for a bit, his expression stilling as well. Daesung seemed to be even more confused as he stared at the Underworld god, then at the grinning sun god.

“Ah, Taeyang!” A familiar, sweet voice said, and Jiyong couldn’t help shifting his gaze towards the owner of that voice.

Long, light brown hair adorned with jasmine and cosmos; alabaster skin tinged pink; a loose summer dress fluttering as she walked, the scent of citrus and spring flowers wafting in the air.

“Sandara, pretty Dara~” Taeyang sang, smiling as he embraced the goddess. “What’s with the wicker baskets? You’re not going to snitch mangoes again, are you?”

For some reason, Jiyong wanted to punch Taeyang’s face hard. Or yank Sandara away from his arms. 

He could only clench his fists to control himself.

Sandara made a face, pulling away from their hug. “No, you annoying sun god. I’m here to pick some flowers, you know—oh, hi Daesung! And” —she peered closer, her eyes then widening in surprise—“Jiyong? What are you doing here in Celestrium?”

Hearing his name falling from her lips in such a friendly, cordial manner made his heart stutter and breathing hitch. Somehow Jiyong managed to say, albeit smoothly, “Daesung and Taeyang asked me if I could come to discuss about some Underworld-related matters.”

“Ah, is that so?” Sandara chuckled, a little embarrassed. “Sorry—it’s just a shock to see you here, roaming outside Underworld.”

“Oh, Dara, it’s considerably a miracle that the _Master of the Underworld_ is here,” Taeyang sighed dramatically, a mischievous glint in his eye. “It’s very much astounding he even agreed to come here instead of dragging us to the Underworld.”

“That’s true,” Daesung added innocently, not getting the hint of mischief in the older god’s tone. “I almost prepared something because I thought we’re going to the Underworld.”

Taeyang’s grin widened even more. “True, true! At least it spared young Daesung some chills, hahahaha!”

Jiyong glared suspiciously at Taeyang’s antics, yet the sun god ignored him.

“Wait, you mentioned flowers, Sandara,” Taeyang said. “For what?”

“Ah—I’m attending a wedding,” Sandara replied, smiling wryly. “They asked for some help in picking the flowers for the wedding, and I couldn’t say no.”

“Whose wedding?”

“Boyoung’s. With that Hyun—Hyunseung—no, Hyungsik! Yes, Hyungsik,” she told him. “They’ll be married tomorrow.”

“Ah, Hyungsik!” Taeyang recognized the name. “About time, I guess. That guy’s been chasing that nymph for ages already. Quite a miracle she agreed!”

Sandara laughed in agreement. “Yeah, I know.” Then after a pause she said, “Which is why I have wicker baskets with me—I need to pick and gather flowers.”

“Would you need some help?” Jiyong asked—or rather, _found_ himself asking. He’d been so used to helping Sandara around within the Underworld for quite a while, after all.

Jiyong wasn’t sure, but Taeyang’s eyes sparkled at his sudden offer, while Daesung stared at him as if he suddenly transformed into a beast or something.

  


“Oh, if you wouldn’t mind, though,” Sandara shrugged—this time, Jiyong caught Taeyang gasp and Daesung’s jaw drop—smiling at him. “It’s going to be a long walk—you good with it?”

Jiyong sighed, a small smile on his lips. “Sandara, I walk around in the Underworld all the time. It won’t be so different.”

“As you wish, then,” Sandara beamed, then turned towards the stunned gods gaping at Jiyong. “How about the two of you? Would you want to come with us?”

Jiyong bit back a protest, kept the frown off his face. Taeyang, however, knew him so well; with a playful smile he said, “We’d love to, pretty Dara—but Daesung and I are gonna do some scrolls and stuff. Right, Daesung?”

“Huh—ah, yeah, hahahaha,” Daesung chuckled a little awkwardly; Taeyang must’ve gestured at him to just play along sneakily. “We’ll be pretty busy, noona.”

“You guys have fun with the flowers, okay?” Taeyang winked at Jiyong before pulling a clueless Daesung with him, walking off. “See you around!”

Sandara seemed a little confused with Taeyang’s antics, but she shrugged it off. Giving Jiyong a basket she said, smiling, “Shall we?”

*

“Did you have any flowers in mind?” Jiyong inquired casually as they walked towards the meadows, Sandara beside him. 

“I have,” Sandara replied. “Asters, lilies…ah, orange blooms seem good, too! What do you think?”

Jiyong chuckled. “Sandara, you know I know almost nothing about flowers.”

Sandara frowned. “Ah, right. Bom gave me a list, though—a long list, really! Thank goodness you’re here to help. I can’t carry two heavy baskets of flowers, and Bom was too unwilling to help…”

Jiyong smiled. “Can I help in plucking the flowers?”

“No—no, don’t please,” Sandara laughed. “You’re awful at it—and anyway, picking flowers here is a sensitive job, you know? Just carry the basket for me.”

*

“I think Bom listed too many,” Sandara complained, pouting as she sat back on the grass, a little exhausted. “Would she even need this much?”

“It’s a wedding,” Jiyong shrugged, setting down the basket on the grass and sitting down. “Don’t weddings have a lot of flowers?”

Sandara laughed. “Well, you’ve got a point right there. Also, Boyoung really likes flowers, so I guess it makes sense.”

The two deities had spent an hour or so picking flowers—Sandara doing the picking and plucking, Jiyong passing the baskets towards the goddess and carrying them for her. Sometimes Sandara would tell a bit or two about the flowers they picked, and Jiyong would listen attentively, asking every now and then.

“The wedding’s…tomorrow, right?” Jiyong asked, his fingers gliding on the basket’s handle. 

Sandara nodded. “Yes. Are you coming?”

The expectation and invitation in Sandara’s voice tickled his heart, and he wanted to say ‘yes.’ However, “I’d love to, but I have some matters to deal with in the Underworld. I wish I can ignore them, but it seemed it needed my attention this time,” was his reply.

“O-oh,” Sandara laughed, a little embarrassed. “I forgot, you’re always busy within that realm. It’s also the reason why I was really surprised to see you here.”

Jiyong smiled faintly. “Taeyang asked me to, anyway.”

_And I wanted to see you._

“By the way, how’s everyone back there?” Sandara casually inquired, turning fully towards the Underworld god. “Is Cerberus fine already? He really looked awful last time I saw him before I left…”

This time, Jiyong couldn’t control his smile from widening. “He’s fine now, Sandara. I believe your medicine worked. If anything, he’s just whining from being restrained too long.”

The goddess sighed in relief, beaming. “Thank goodness. But Jiyong, maybe you should let him roam around? I don’t think he’ll stir trouble, will he?”

“Depends on the current caretaker, though,” the Underworld god shrugged. “But I guess I’ll take him for a walk, all right.”

If he had to be honest, Sandara’s growing sincere affection for the dark, cold realm she once hated was a miracle in itself—something so unbelievable sometimes Jiyong wondered if it was real.

But it was there—from how Sandara treated the aides, talked with some lost souls who ended up roaming around the castle, and even approaching Cerberus in such friendly manner despite her initial fear of dogs.

It was there—from how Sandara would just amble along the castle’s corridors and linger in some rooms, from how she would sometimes go outside and walk by the Sleeping River, and from how she would return with little news for Jiyong.

It was there—from how the frost in Sandara’s eyes melted into something akin to kindness.

The very same kindness lighting up in her beautiful orbs as she looked at Jiyong right now.

“And the rest?” Sandara probed on.

“Nothing new, nothing unusual,” Jiyong told her offhandedly. “Paperworks, as usual.”

_A mountain of paperworks,_ Jiyong actually wanted to say. _Paperworks and pestering Phantoms asking me when you’ll return._

_A colder, lonelier realm without you in it._

Sandara chuckled lightly. “I believe they’re piling up in your desk again as we speak.”

Jiyong groaned, frowning. It was something he’d disliked ever since he became the Master—he hated paperworks. 

“Are you going to stay here for long?” Sandara suddenly asked after a moment of companionable silence.

“Not really,” Jiyong shook his head. “I’m going to return by dusk, actually.”

“Oh,” the sudden sadness in Sandara’s voice made his heart clench in regret and longing. _Did Sandara want him to stay longer here? Did Sandara want him here?_

_Does Sandara—?_ He stopped.

He couldn’t hope. He shouldn’t hope.

His heart still did, though.

That, and he wanted to soothe Sandara, to brush away the faint melancholy in her eyes.

“But maybe I could stay here until midnight, just in case Taeyang would need my help—” Jiyong said quickly, his words instantly brightening the goddess’s face before it shifted into something else.

“No, no—you should return there early! Aiya, you shouldn’t stay up for so long just to finish all those paper stuff!” Sandara insisted, waving her hands. “You’re pretty horrible with lack of sleep, you know.”

Jiyong chuckled, a bittersweet ache blooming once more in his chest. “As you say.”

*

They left the meadows a little later in the afternoon, sharing tiny stories along the way. As always, Sandara would initiate the conversation, Jiyong just answering her and going with the flow.

“Oh, look, Jiyong—we’re in luck!” Sandara exclaimed excitedly, pointing towards a wide, grassy field blooming with daisies. “Can we stay there for a while?”

“Sure,” Jiyong agreed, letting Sandara lead them as they waded through the flowers. The two sat below a large tree, surrounded by the sweet, subtle scent of grass and daisies.

“You know, I’ve always liked daisies,” Sandara smiled, picking a few blooms herself. “They’re small, but they’re delicate and sweet.”

Jiyong merely nodded, watching as the goddess weaved a daisy chain. Her fingers were nimble and fast, as if she’d been creating them for a long time already.

“A hobby of yours?” Jiyong asked quietly, observing Sandara as she completed a chain.

“When I was younger, yes,” Sandara smiled. “I’d sometimes wander around to look for a field full of daisies and spend hours after hours weaving chains. Sometimes Bom would join me, but often I went alone.”

Jiyong couldn’t help imagining a younger version of Sandara blithely strolling in the middle of daisies, her delicate fingers creating daisy chains, a satisfied smile on her beautiful face.

His daydreams were briefly interrupted when he felt something lightly touch the top of his head, and his hands quickly went up to touch what it was.

“Suits you,” Sandara giggled, her eyes sparkling with childish delight.

_Oh._

Sandara had placed the daisy chain she’d made on top of his head. He wasn’t sure what he looked like exactly—an Underworld god dressed in black robes and tunic with a daisy chain crowning his head.

_But if Sandara said so…_

“Don’t like it?”

“No, no—it’s fine,” Jiyong quickly assured her. “Are daisies your favorite flowers, Sandara?”

“Yup,” she responded quickly, smiling. “It’s always a treat for me to see a few blooms wherever I go.”

Jiyong hummed to himself, suddenly deep in thought. Meanwhile, Sandara picked some more daisies, creating a daisy chain for herself.

“Would you like to learn?” the goddess asked, noticing the seriousness in the god’s stare as she wove. “It’s pretty easy.”

Jiyong nodded.

It took a few messy chains, crooked crowns, and occasional teasing from Sandara, but somehow, Jiyong managed to weave a decent daisy chain on his own.

A daisy chain he adorned Sandara’s head—and the very sight stole Jiyong’s breath away.

An innocent, sweet face crowned with dainty flowers—like pearls on a chocolate brown river. Her eyes lit up in expectation, face lightly flushed as she asked, “How do I look, Jiyong?”

It was a long moment before Jiyong spoke. “Beautiful,” was all he could say. “You’re beautiful, Sandara. Always.”

His simple answer was rewarded with a wide, enchanting—and albeit shy—smile.

*

“I’ll just carry them now by myself, Jiyong,” Sandara reassured him for the umpteenth time, her hands now insistent in bringing the wicker baskets filled with flowers. “It’s almost vespers, already—I don’t think your dragon—or your ferryman, I don’t know—would like to wait any longer.”

Jiyong snickered. “Do you want me away, Sandara?”

A flicker of an emotion fluttered on her face before it disappeared with a frown. “No, you Underworld god—you have a lot of tasks to do. You better finish them early so you can attend to your job tomorrow.”

Jiyong sighed in resignation, smiling slightly. He really couldn’t say no to her, especially when she started to nag. “Okay,” he handed the baskets to her, which she took quickly and gracefully.

“Thanks for accompanying me, Jiyong,” Sandara said. “I hope I didn’t take much of your time, though.”

“Not at all,” Jiyong smiled. “Not at all, Sandara.”

_Never._

The goddess’ gaze seemed faraway all of a sudden before she turned her eyes back to Jiyong and said, “Now, go—your dragon’s waiting for you.”

Jiyong laughed, letting Sandara push him away towards the Celestrium’s gates. He lifted his hand, chanted a word, and the gate opened at once. He then stepped out, feeling his heart sink with every step he took.

With one last glance he turned his face and whispered, “I’ll see you, Sandara.”

Jiyong wasn’t sure if he was hallucinating, but he saw a hint of sadness in Sandara’s sweet, sweet smile. “I’ll see you in winter, Jiyong.”

\---

Jiyong had long stopped hoping that Sandara would eventually forgive his errors—especially when he forcefully brought Sandara to the Underworld through a curse. Jiyong had long stopped hoping for anything more than forgiveness.

Jiyong even stopped expecting that Sandara would not glare at him anymore.

Which was why, ever since Sandara started to be a little friendly towards him after years of cold shoulder and frosty attitude, Jiyong learned to treasure such cordiality. He treasured every small smile she gave him; every chuckle; every twinkle of her eye whenever he said something that interested her.

He held everything Sandara did to him dearly—from how she would welcome him in the Underworld castle’s receiving hall whenever he arrives from another realm; from how she would ask him whether he’d eaten or not; from how she would listen to him whenever he shared a few things about his day.

Jiyong can’t help expecting sometimes, of course—but each time he did, he had to remind himself not to.

He didn’t have the right to be selfish, after all.

\---

  


**_underworld | winter_ **

  


It’s well past nighttime already. Maybe almost midnight.

Yes, it’s an eternal night within the Underworld. However, after a few years of stay, Sandara managed to determine the time without the use of an hourglass.

She sighed to herself, warming up the pot of tea again with her powers. Jiyong had never returned to the Underworld this late—unless the meeting in Celestrium’s Grand Hall was _that_ important. Not surprising though, considering the matters at hand…

She straightened up and stood near the fortress’s receiving hall. A few more hours of waiting won’t probably hurt, anyway.

*

“…ra, Dara…” a familiar voice wafted through her ears, cold touch caressing her face.

Sandara mumbled, wanting to sleep more.

“Sandara, I’m back.”

Hearing that, she quickly shot up from her nap, eyes darting open.

Beside her, the Master of the Underworld sat by the dais’s steps, his dull crimson eyes warm as he stared at the goddess.

“Jiyong!” she exclaimed, heart fluttering. The flutters went as it came, however; her hands flurried around, looking for the pot of tea she’d prepared earlier. “Oh no, the tea—!”

“Here,” Jiyong murmured, placing the tray where she’d put the pot and tea cups in front of them. “I’ve already warmed up the tea for you.”

“Aiya, and I’m the one supposed to do it for you,” Sandara clicked her tongue, pouring some tea for Jiyong and for herself.

“You’ve fallen asleep by that post,” Jiyong told her after taking a sip. “It looked very uncomfortable, so I, uh, carried you and made you sit here for a while.”

The flutters in her heart returned. “How long have I been…asleep?”

“Quite some time, I believe. I didn’t have the heart to wake you at first but…” he smiled wryly, “I feel bad for the tea.”

Sandara chuckled, shaking her head.

“I’m sorry you had to wait long, though,” Jiyong said. “I didn’t realize it was so late until I went back here.”

“No worries, no worries!” Sandara waved her hands dismissively. “Anyway, I believe the matters are pretty serious back there in Celestrium, anyway.”

Jiyong opened his mouth to say something, but he seemed to swallow down his words instead and smiled at her.

Admittedly, seeing Jiyong smile is still a shock to Sandara’s senses. She’d long since been used to his cold, expressionless face every time they met, especially in the Underworld.

However, she’d noticed that the frost surrounding the Master of the Underworld’s aura have started to melt, revealing a side of him she’d never expected. His eyes, once blank, seemed to actually flicker with life; his lips, once a straight line, started to curve up a little into a smile.

And that smile of his always did things to Sandara’s heart, things she couldn’t understand.

“So what did you discuss there?” she casually inquired, pouring him another cup.

“Mostly about the increasing number of twisted deities within the gods’ realm,” Jiyong answered. “Seunghyun-hyung’s telling me there’s a possibility of a conflict anytime soon, so precautions must be done.”

“Oh,” was all Sandara could whisper. She knew a few things about twisted deities herself, but maybe slightly more or less than Jiyong’s knowledge. “So you’ll be helping out the forces?”

“Mostly on tactics. I’m not the only battle god in disposal, but they’ll probably ask me about some…stuff, particularly that on the dark arts.”

The receiving hall was quiet until Jiyong spoke once more. “How about you?”

“Me?”

“What did you do here while I was away?”

“Oh!” she immediately perked up. “Nothing much—just helped around the fortress with some of your aides. I also taught Jinwoo a new language and some combat techniques—he’s really a fast learner, Jiyong! He has to improve on his theories, though; he keeps on forgetting some transcripts.

“Although,” she paused, remembering something. “Jiyong, your aides…and even the Phantoms seemed weird earlier.”

A smile was playing on the corner of his lips. “How so?”

“Your aides were so insistent not to make me work— _more_ insistent than usual, saying that I should just take it easy and have some rest. Even the Phantoms were…less annoying than usual” —Jiyong let out a soft chuckle¬—“and they even helped me out this time! I asked Jinwoo about it, but all I got was a silent reply and a tiny smile.”

The Underworld god pulled something out from the inside of his robes, hiding it well inside his fist. “Give me your hand, Sandara.”

Although a little bemused, the goddess gave him her hand. Jiyong lightly slid his fist onto her palm, and she felt something cold against her skin.

She gasped, seeing what it was.

“You once told me you liked daisies,” Jiyong said quietly, his eyes on Sandara’s face. “There aren’t any daisies within the Underworld though…so I thought of giving you one.”

On Sandara’s palm rested a simple necklace, with a crystal charm shaped like a teardrop on the center, with a preserved daisy flower inside the crystal. The necklace’s delicate chain was made of white gold, an element only found within Celestrium.

“B-but what is this for?” she stammered, heat creeping up her cheeks and heart thudding against her chest. “I don’t remember asking you for something like this—or do something for you to give me this! Anyway, it’s not as if it’s my birthday or something—!”

She abruptly paused, seeing the glow in Jiyong’s orbs and his soft smile. Her gaze shifted to the necklace, then to Jiyong, then back at the necklace.

“Wait, wait, _wait_ ,” she whispered. “Hold on, Jiyong. Is it—is it—?”

“Yes,” Jiyong murmured. “Happy birthday, Sandara.”

A surge of warmth gushed from her chest, her heart thumping with joy as a wide smile graced her lips. Laughter bubbled from her mouth, the blissful, surprised sound echoing through the receiving hall.

“Ah, right! Of course it is! Hahaha, how could I have forgotten?” she chortled, happiness filling her system so much. “Oh, wow, really—but—how? How did you know, Jiyong? I don’t remember telling you that…”

“I asked Bom-noona,” Jiyong told her, a seemingly dazed look in his eyes. “Well, I confess I had quite an idea because of some signs within the Celestrium’s gardens, but I just had to ask her to confirm my thoughts.”

“What signs?”

It took a moment before he answered. “The flowers are more colorful and vibrant, despite the cold winter. The trees weren’t bare of leaves—yet they bloomed with sweet little flowers.”

“Oh,” she breathed. “Oh well, I guess my flowers can’t lie, can they? But goodness, Jiyong. You really didn’t have to! This is just…too much…”

During her years of stay within the Underworld, Sandara had witnessed and learned a few spells of Underworld’s deities, especially that of the realm’s Master. She knew that the crystallization technique—a preservation spell—was one of the high-tiered spells which took quite much of their powers.

Jiyong shook his head. “It’s nothing, Sandara. I just wanted to give you a gift, that’s all.”

She stared at his eyes, a habit she’d picked up on ever since she (was forcefully) lived in the Underworld. She’d always been so vigilant and guarded when it came to Jiyong’s gestures, especially those gestures for her. Always, at first, she’d seen nothing but coldness in his gaze. Always, she’d noticed nothing but hidden thoughts in his eyes, thoughts she’d once supposed were malicious and ominous.

It wasn’t an exaggeration, therefore, that she can read Jiyong’s eyes well, even when his face was expressionless.

Now, as she stared, all she could see was sincere warmth. Combined with the even more pronounced smile in his handsome features, Sandara was…overwhelmed.

Overwhelmed with the emotions in a once-emotionless face.

Overwhelmed with her _own_ emotions filling her chest.

“T-thank you,” she mumbled, feeling warmth under her eyes as she looked at the necklace again. “Thank you, Jiyong.”

“Um…would you want me to put it on for you?” Jiyong asked, sounding shy. Sure enough, when she looked up, a faint flush painted his cheeks.

She couldn’t help giggling at the sight. “Sure,” she blurted out without thinking.

Although he looked surprised, Jiyong quietly took the necklace, brushed the goddess’s hair gently to the side, and clasped the jewelry around her neck.

Jiyong’s light touches against her hair and skin were doing things to Sandara’s heart, sending tingles she couldn’t understand.

As soon as he was done, she quickly turned her body towards Jiyong, beaming, “How do I look?”

For a moment, Jiyong was silent, his fervid gaze fixed on Sandara’s expectant face. A dozen emotions or so flickered in his eyes, emotions that quickly flitted out before she could recognize them.

Finally, a look of utter devotion and sincerity was on Jiyong’s mien as he spoke slowly, “You look beautiful, Sandara. Always.”

She’d heard these words for a million times already, ever since she was still very young. Words that, for her, were shallow and meaningless; beauty, for her, was not just her face or her grace. But beauty, for them, was Sandara—and all they saw on Sandara was just her pretty face.

But these words—these very same words that used to irritate her—uttered by a different person made her feel differently. 

Every time he said those words to her whenever she asked, loud and clear, a strong tidal wave of emotions threatened to drown her, emotions so staggering sometimes her breath got stuck in her throat.

Emotions that made her wrap her arms around that very person, a deity she’d never even thought of so much—until now.

Jiyong froze for a short moment, obviously stunned. Even Sandara was stunned of herself; she’d never expected that she, the cursed goddess, would get warm and affectionate towards someone that cursed her for eternity.

It was a hidden, painful truth that Jiyong _did_ curse her, bound her to the depths of the Underworld for almost half a year every year, for as long as she lived. A hasty, stupid decision that once earned Sandara’s justified ire and hatred towards him.

But right now, as the scent of cold snow frost, light musk, and embers filled the goddess’s nose, the Underworld god’s arms softly wrapped around her body—

“Thank you, Jiyong,” she whispered into his skin. “This is one of my happiest birthdays yet, you know.”

Jiyong was quiet before he murmured, albeit fervently, “You’re most welcome, Sandara.”

—Sandara couldn’t help thinking that maybe, just _maybe_ , the dark curse gave her a gift she was slowly learning to treasure.

**Author's Note:**

> ha, look at me writing another daragon fic.
> 
> scream at me on my [twitter](https://twitter.com/cieruleaxxe) or on my ccat: hoonyslobelias


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